Page 98 of The Romance Adventure
“Um, not really.”
She holds out her hand. “I’m Lally McGuiness.”
“McGregor?”
“No, McGuiness,” she says, shimmying into the shallow hole to retrieve the dog. “And this is Madame de Pupadour. She’s a mutt, but I’m sure she has some papillon in her. That’s a French breed, like the original Madame de Pompadour. She was King Louis XV’s chief mistress.” Lally waggles her eyebrows. “Yes, it’s what you think it means. But she also advised him and rumor has it that she may or may not have been involved in brokering deals with pirates. Let’s just say she was a fan of finery and had a particular affinity for porcelain. Go figure. Anyway, you probably don’t want a history lesson. Madame and I will get out of your hair.”
“But I got paint in her hair, er, her fur. I am so sorry.” There’s a streak across her flank and some on her tail, which wags happily.
“I’m sure it’ll wash right out. I apologize. She got out of the run behind my cottage and I’ve been searching high and low for her.” Lally nuzzles the dog. “She’s a little escape artist, is what she is.”
“Again, I’m sorry. I can pay for a trip to the groomer or—”
“I’m a vet. I’ve handled much worse. You don’t even want to know what happened to General MuttArthur when he got into the swamp last time we were on the mainland.”
“By the way, I’m Isla, the official Driftwood Resort mural painter.”
“Nice to meet you. This one is amazing. I moved here after the resort closed, so I missed all the fun, but I can almost see it brought to life. You’re very talented.”
Royal appears and lassoes me by the waist. “I agree.” He kisses my temple.
I introduce him to Lally.
“Ah, so you’re why the flock of flamingos appeared. Forget cupid. They say when those birds appear, love matches are made on Coco Key every season.”
“But they’re plastic.”
“Stand-ins for the real ones.”
My eyes widen. “Anyway...” I explain what happened to Madame. To my utter shock, Royal gets down on the ground and makes an epic fuss over the dog.
“Be careful, she’ll become your biggest fan,” Lally says.
“Yeah, Madame de Pompadour was the king’s mistress in the mid seventeen hundreds. Word is she even cavorted with pirates,” I say, recapping my history lesson from Lally.
“Oh, the stories I could tell you,” she says with an exhale. “Though I don’t think this Madame has any such aspirations. Mostly, she just wants bacon treats.”
We all chuckle.
“I had no idea you were a dog guy?” I recall the conversation with Royal about how he’s like a cat.
“We all are, my brothers and me, I mean. Unfortunately, Chip wouldn’t let us have any pets. He said we had an entire island teaming with life to explore and adore.” Royal tips his head and gives a little eye roll. “We snuck Emmie a kitten once, though. She’s a cat person like Bean.”
“I happen to be on a first-name basis with Nutmeg. So when do you expect to be open?” Lally asks.
Royal and I exchange a glance because the soft opening is also our wedding day.
“We’re actually meeting with my brothers to discuss—I was looking for you. The mural is coming along swimmingly.” He points to the pool. “Well, except Mag, he won’t be joining us because he’s at a bachelor party.” Royal rolls his eyes.
“Not yours, though.”
“Nah. The guys and I are going to swim with sharks.”
“No, no. I don’t want to marry fish food.”
Lally looks at us in question.
“We’re getting married and this one loves extreme sports.” Royal has his arm slung across my shoulders and I poke him in the side.
